Now, Tranquility
by Sweet Danish Yummy
Summary: Finn's thought process pretty much throughout the entirety of Episode 5: Tranquility Now.  Yeah, I'm not sure what I was thinking either.


**Title:** Now, Tranquility  
**Characters:** Finn, Junko, mentions of the others  
**Rating:** K  
**Word Count:** 2,847  
**Summary:** Finn's thought process pretty much throughout the entirety of Episode 5: Tranquility Now. Yeah, I'm not sure what I was thinking either.

* * *

It was never his intention to lose them. Such a thing would have required premeditation, and thinking that far ahead had never been Finn's strongest suit. He was very much about the here and now. And here was a toy he wanted to play with, and he wanted to play with it now. Which was pretty much the only thought in his head when he batted his eyes at Junko and begged him to let him try the Knuckle Busters. 

Of course, he knew they weren't toys, but they were shiny and if they did everything Junko claimed they did, then he really wanted to see what they could do with him. Not that he really knew _what_ he'd do with them once he got them,--again, forethought was not a constant companion of his, or even an occasional visitor--but he did know that he wanted to _try them. Right now. _

They were heavier than he thought they would be. Junko made it look like they barely weighed anything, and considering he wore them so often and swung them around as if there wasn't this ton of metal on the end of his arm, Finn found a new appreciation for his buddy's strength. Not that he ever doubted it, mind. You'd have to be stupid to doubt the strength of a Wallop, and despite Junko's ascertains that he had been different growing up, Finn himself never doubted Junko's similarities to his species. Not that he was skeptical of the truth of Junko's story, either, even if the image of him with glasses was a bit weird.

When Finn finally managed to hoist them up to chest level (ignoring the shaking in his arms and the panicked insistence from his biceps that he wouldn't be able to maintain that position for very long) the Knuckle Busters just naturally fell together. The tap was light but apparently the force of the collision made little difference upon activation: the green energy lit up, bright, burning into his eyes, entirely too close for his comfort. And then there was a jerk and his hands were moving on their own. And where his hands went, his arms followed, along with the rest of him.

He gave a strangled, panicked noise (followed by a couple more) as he was jerked around the room, almost tripping as he attempted to keep up with his buster-guided hands. Possessed, they nearly yanked him off his feet…and instead settled for acquainting his face with an inconveniently placed pole. His grip on the Busters slackened, apparently just enough for them to break free and go sailing out the window.

Of course, Finn didn't see any of that. After the starbursts cleared out of his field of vision, the next thing he saw was Junko almost flinging himself out the window, trying to catch his escaped weaponry. Finn made it to the window just in time to see the clouds completely engulf the bright green glow.

Guilt sank deep into his gut and made itself comfortable. Frantically he apologized, promising Junko they'd go get them. He wasn't certain how far down it was to the surface, or even what the condition of it was in this area. It didn't matter. He'd drive through starving sky-shark infested air to get those things back. He couldn't stand this heavy guilt twisting his stomach around. Especially not since it got heavier and more twisty when he looked at Junko and saw the heartbreak etched over his face.

Nothing could ever go right, though, and today seemed to be determined to remind Finn of that at every turn. No sooner had he assured Junko they'd get the Knuckle Busters back that Aerrow was calling them to round up and head out. Their leader had gotten it into his head again that they needed to go out and do something, and while Finn might not normally complain _too_ much about this, right now he had better things to do. More important things. Saving Atmos' courier ships from collision and damage? Pah. Nothing in comparison to alleviating his guilt.

He tried to get out of it, though even as he said it, he knew Aerrow wouldn't let them just go back and keep Stork company (and Finn wouldn't even do his leader the injustice of thinking he bought that for a second). He had to try though. Junko was hunched over the handles of his skimmer, looking like someone had kicked his gleep.

Since it was painfully apparent that they weren't going to get out of this mission, Finn figured he had to take some action. Junko still looked utterly miserable, the guilt was still crawling around in his stomach, and Aerrow's comment had reminded him of a very key fact: Junko was certain that he was nothing without the Knuckle Busters.

One quick flippant comment about how he didn't need them confirmed what Finn'd been dreading. Junko was stuck in the belief that he needed the glowing green weaponry in order to be strong.

This did _not_ bode well for their mission.

Irritation sparked, and he let that take over for a minute; it certainly felt better than the guilt, which it managed to overshadow. If Aerrow thought they were riding into a situation where they needed muscle (which, clearly, he did), then Junko's attitude was only going to slow them down and make the mission more difficult. What might not normally take that long could take forever, simply because of the Wallop's refusal to acknowledge that he was strong. And that meant that Finn would be stuck feeling like a heel for longer than was strictly necessary.

Finn, being a young man of boundless (and baseless) self-confidence, had a hard time understanding why Junko would be able to doubt himself, considering how many times he'd kicked butt.

It didn't stop Finn from trying to make his friend believe in himself, though. Especially since Junko having faith in his abilities right at this moment meant that the Talons wouldn't be able to capture them, which was a definite necessity as far as Finn was concerned. And for a second, when Junko raised his loosely-clenched fists, Finn thought he might have actually gotten through to him.

But then his shoulders drooped and his hands fell and a horrible look of defeat settled over his features, and Finn was left feeling even worse. Because now not only was he feeling guilty, and mildly exasperated, but panic at the sight of the approaching Talons was making all that even worse. It was a veritable, horrible party in his gut and he badly wanted to not be invited anymore.

Desperately he looked around, for something to throw at the Talons (or even, his brain thought, a spare pair of Knuckle Busters, because Finn wasn't above praying for miracles). The only thing within reach was a bucket of tools and dirty gloves, left over no doubt from some careless clock worker…or someone too busy running for his life to be bothered to pick up something that might slow him down.

An idea came to him in a second, and Finn reached down to pick up the gloves, looking at them uncertainly. Then, muttering to himself that it had better work (because this comprised the grand total of all his escape plans for the moment), he turned to Junko and did what anyone would have expected him to do.

He lied.

The key, of course, was to look completely confident. You could sell anyone on anything, providing you looked certain enough in what you were saying. Finn was banking everything on the notion that he could convince Junko that the gloves were equivalent to his Knuckle Busters.

He could have kissed the Talon that shot Junko. Not because he wanted his friend hurt (and the bolt of red energy certainly didn't do Junko any harm; crystal energy rarely did), and not because he felt any sort of desire for the Talon. No, he would have laid lips on that Talon because Junko had been on the verge of doubting Finn (actually, he had been past the verge, in all honesty). The sudden jolt of the red energy through his body seemed to be the determiner for Junko.

Finn had to admit, there was just something about watching Junko throw heavy stuff at Talons that never failed to get him happy.

There was a spring in his friend's step again, and smile on his face and assurance in his movements. Finn took a moment to marvel that it had worked, following after Junko and suddenly much more at ease. There was a certain amount of relief that could only be found in knowing you had a solid wall of muscle standing between you and the Cyclonians. It was a good feeling.

And then it was gone.

If Finn had been versed at all in psychology, he might have been able to puzzle out Junko's reaction to the fake Knuckle Busters. Something about being dependent on weaponry to utilize his abilities combined with mountains of self-doubt. But Finn was barely even passingly familiar with psychology, and so he could only watch was Junko literally punched his way through what had once been a library.

_Perhaps,_ he thought to himself as he jogged after Junko and attempted to quiet him, _this wasn't such a good idea after all._

He tried to tell him, trailing after Junko and doing his best to avoid the backswings, that the gloves were just gloves, but either Junko ignored him, or failed to hear him over the sound of all that destruction. Either way, Junko kept right on punching, insisting that he couldn't stop.

A few swings later, and Junko had led them into what looked to be the command center of the clock tower. An old guy with funny headgear was standing with Piper, and both were staring at Junko in confusion as he continued wildly swinging. It looked as if he were brawling with some invisible opponent.

It took both of them telling him they were fake, and the old man showing him his own matching gloves before Junko finally slowed his swings until they stopped.

The hurt in his voice when he spoke to Finn brought the guilt roaring back, stronger than ever. He could only say he'd tried to help. He had! He'd never intended for any of this to happen, and he'd been struggling since the loss of the Knuckle Busters to right it in any way he could. Until he could get them back to Junko, the best he could do was try and get the Wallop to realize his ability. If it took lying to him to get him to utilize the strength he inherently had, whether he believed it or not, then Finn figured it was a lie that could be forgiven.

He didn't get a chance to find out if Junko's clemency would be given. Idly Finn determined to himself that the Talons must get special training for intuitively sensing the most inopportune time to appear and taking advantage of it. Not that he didn't welcome the distraction from his guilt, of course, but he wasn't sure he wanted to be facing down a bunch of Talon's, either. Especially not these ones: the chick he remembered quite well as the crazy woman whose arrow had defeated his bolt. And the guy looked like he could turn Finn into pulverized meat with a single swing of his mace. And here he was, cornered, with an old man, a confidence-less Junko, and Piper at his side.

He did the only thing he could do. He bluffed.

It wasn't a lie, not technically. Junko was indeed all of the things Finn boasted him to be. Just because he didn't feel like it right now didn't make it any less true (not that this would have stopped Finn, considering he made it a habit to lie at any time in which it was convenient to him, and lying to Talons was like earning bonus points). But, considering Junko believed he had all the power of a gleep at the moment, Finn supposed it wasn't technically true. But they didn't know that.

There wasn't any hesitation, not even a flicker of doubt, in their faces. The destruction of a chair was clearly an intimidation tactic, but if Finn was capable of anything, it was maintaining his bluffs for as long as he could.

Unfortunately, Junko was in a wholly uncooperative mood today, and surrendered. At Finn's disbelieving look he only offered a sheepish grin. Had this been a situation in which he wasn't about to be beaten bloody and dragged off to Cyclonia where they did who-knew-what to Sky Knights, Finn might have taken the time to heave several exasperated sighs, accompanied with the usual battery of hand through his hair and the rubbing of his palm over his face.

No time for that now though. It looked like they might have enough time for one last quick prayer before attempting to hoof it out of there.

Aerrow, of course, choose that moment to show up, in a showy entrance involving skidding skimmers into the enemies, acrobatic aerial flips ending in perfect landings, and destruction of private property.

Just their style.

There was something about Aerrow that gave them back their fighting spirit. No, that was wrong. They would have fought (eventually) even if he hadn't showed up. No, there was something about Aerrow's presence that made Finn believe they could win. Even he, in all his cockiness, knew better than to think he could take on a bunch of Talon's by himself. Even the addition of Piper, who Finn would admit was a good person to have in a fight, still didn't give him the kind of odds he'd like. With Junko effectively out of commission he'd been feeling pretty bad about the face-off. With Aerrow there, though, it made it a whole new battle.

He really should have known better than to go against the crazy chick, though. Again his bolt failed against her shot, and to add insult to injury, she took his suggestion and brought it hard. Right against his face. And it was a pretty effective manner of putting him out of commission for a few moments.

When he finally came to he looked up just in time to see Junko go flying. He'd seen Junko fight before, and he'd seen him take his fair share of hits, of course. But never like this. Finn had never seen him just give up, not even try and stop the person throwing him around like a rag doll, and it gave Finn chills.

Frantically he tried to tell Junko what all of them already knew: he didn't need the gloves to be strong. He didn't need some weaponry to kick butt. He just needed to believe in himself (at any other time Finn might have rolled his eyes at the corniness of this particular line of thought).

Junko's stubborn streak refused to give way; it was as if Junko, normally trusting in the things Finn said, had suddenly become deaf to even the truths he was uttering.

It was clear, though, that he heard Snipe's taunts. In an instant Finn saw a spark of his old buddy back in his eyes.

When he crushed Snipe's mace (with one hand!), Finn was ready to cheer.

When a single punch from Junko sent the Talon soaring across the room, Finn had the urge to break out in a dance.

The old man seemed less than thrilled with Junko's treatment of Snipe, though not out of regard for the Talon. His suggestion was ludicrous, of course. It took a really stupid person to get in front of Junko's fists, and Finn knew better. Besides, did that old man have any idea how long it took to get his buddy swinging again? No way was he going to stop him.

Once the coast was clear and it was apparent no more punches were going to be thrown, Finn popped up and grinningly reminded Junko that he'd been right. And he was only too happy to inform Piper that Junko had applied some muscle to the situation. He felt like a proud papa bragging about his son, only the simile was a bit weird and Finn just wouldn't think about it.

Once the clock had been started again and the time pulse had been restored, they turned their skimmers toward the Condor and headed off. Finn, however, broke apart from the group as they neared the area they'd left Stork and the ship waiting in, pointing the nose of his skimmer down and disappearing into the thick clouds.

The surface was not pretty, and if it had been anything else, he would have given up after the first sting. But he returned, triumphant, to the Condor, aching and swollen and thinking that he'd never be stupid enough to touch the Knuckle Busters again, let alone ask to borrow them.

It was worth it though.


End file.
